


Didn't See It Coming

by Renne



Series: space!military au [1]
Category: Captain America (2011), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, M/M, Oblivious, Realisations, Space Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renne/pseuds/Renne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve takes forever to catch the fuck up. (But then he does.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Didn't See It Coming

**Author's Note:**

> A little while ago I did a AU plots meme where I wrote [this plot](http://peterquills.tumblr.com/post/103451883784) for a queer-friendly space!military AU. This fic is set in that universe.

It seems like a natural thing to do; instead of kissing Bucky on the crown or the forehead or the cheek like he normally would, Steve leans forward and kisses him on the mouth. There's nothing premeditated about it but nor is it an accident. Bucky doesn't even look surprised, just smiles and Steve squeezes Bucky's shoulder and says he'll be back shortly.  
  
Steve's trudging through the slush, halfway to the trading centre before he even realises that it was something different. He idly touches his lips and then wonders why he's doing it, breath fogging between his cold fingers in the crisp winter air. He suddenly remembers Bucky looking up at him and the affection in his eyes as if he was thinking  _finally_ , like it had taken Steve forever to--  
  
Oh.  
  
...Like it had taken Steve forever to catch up.  
  
Suddenly he understands what Bucky had thought he'd realised twenty minutes earlier. The soft warmth of Bucky's mouth under his (and his lips tingle a little now just to remember it as he runs his fingertip over the curve of his bottom lip) and Steve stops in his tracks. He'd like to do it again, he realises. He'd like to kiss Bucky again, and again, and again and again until they couldn't breathe. Someone bumps his shoulder on the way past and Steve mutters an apology, shoving his hands back into his pockets and continuing towards the centre.  
  
So, he thinks, he'd like to kiss Bucky again. It's something he thinks should feel wrong to him--not... wrong like wanting a man is wrong, because that's thinking that was long left behind back in the twentieth century, but wrong like there should be someone else he should want. And that's the thing that feels wrong; he shouldn't expect to want anyone else at all, because he doesn't.  
  
There may have been some point in his life when Steve might have wanted someone else, but for the life of him he can't think of it. To be honest, now--and a few awkward nights-mornings-afternoons during adolescence--is the first time he's wanted Bucky, too.  
  
It's like a switch has been flipped in his brain, sending lightning pulsing down his spine.  
  
Steve fists his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to turn and run back to the townhouse so he can kiss Bucky stupid and see where they go from there. There'll be time for that, he tells himself, once he's collected their grocery entitlements. But oh, he could. He really could.  
  
He forces himself to keep to his pace and not rush; Bucky will still be there when he gets home, and the entitlement will keep them fed for the rest of their furlough without having to leave the house. The kick of joy it gives his heart is sharper now than just the thought of not having to go out into a freezing, slushy street.  
  
"Commander Rogers, sir," Logistics Officer Martin greets Steve warmly when he steps through the door into the trading centre entranceway. The door swishes shut behind him and he feels a rush of warmth as the heating cuts back in, and he loosens his jacket. Through the double doors ahead he can hear the chatter of the vendors and their customers, a racket he thankfully doesn't have to submit to today, since Bucky had had the foresight to call ahead and request the entitlement be collated for pick up. It cost more, since bargaining with the vendors over bulk purchase or lesser quality items could save money, but since both of them were earning enough now to make it of little difference (and wasn't that a novelty?), neither was particularly fussed.  
  
Plus it was winter. Bargaining was hard enough in clement weather, when the days were long and you could take your time to get the best deal.  
  
Steve follows LO Martin through to the collection bay. They could have paid a little extra for a delivery which Steve thinks now mightn't have been such a bad idea. But then he wouldn't have kissed Bucky as he left, and staying in together--while entirely pleasant and what they would do anyway--didn't hold even the promise it did now.  
  
"Ah here," LO Martin says, reaching out and swiping her stylus over the bar codes on two large boxes. She makes a few quick notations on her datapad saying, "I have two entitlement packages here, one for yourself and one for Squadron Leader Barnes. If you'll just place your thumb here..." She hands him the datapad and he signs for the packages. "Thank you."  
  
Long gone were the days when he or Bucky had to argue to pick up the other's entitlements, mail or pay documents. Steve can't even be entirely sure that he and Bucky aren't already on the books at headquarters as an official pairing to allow them this kind of freedom. Of course, thinking of pairings, official or not, sends Steve's mind careening back down the path of the things he wants to do to Bucky now he can (he's sure he can, Bucky wouldn't have looked at him like that if--). Iit's only when LO Martin touches his arm and says, "Is everything okay, sir? You look a little flushed," that Steve remembers where he is and what he's meant to be doing.  
  
"No, no," he says hastily, smiling at her. "I'm fine. Just a bit distracted, that's all. Think it's the weather."  
  
"Of course," she says a little doubtfully. "Here, let me get you a carrier."  
  
"Oh no, I can--" But before Steve can stop her, she hurries down to the other end of the collection bay and comes back with a carrier. She smiles at him and quickly loads the entitlements. The carrier groans slightly and dips towards the floor.  
  
"It sounds worse than it is, sir," she says with a quick smile. "We're having hells own difficulty getting the Supply Office to replace the suspension drives in our carriers, but they're still useable. Bureaucracy and red tape, I suppose." She waves her hand dismissively with a laugh. "Never mind my complaints, sir. Please remember to press the green button when you're ready for the carrier to be collected otherwise the cost may be deducted from your next pay."  
  
There's not really a lot Steve can say to that but, "Thank you," and "I will." Like an old-fashioned shopping cart, the carrier has a tendency to veer left, but once Steve gets it out the door and on the icy pavement back to the townhouse he's grateful that the logistics officer fetched it for him. He doesn't fancy his luck on the slippery path with the boxes in hand.  
  
Once again his mind wanders to Bucky and that warm look. Steve wonders how long Bucky's been waiting for him to catch up. It can't have been that long; Bucky's one of the most impatient people Steve knows, surely he would have hurried Steve along a little by now if it had been.  
  
Or maybe he had. Maybe he'd tried to give Steve the hints and Steve had just... not realised. It couldn't have been too explicit, Steve's not completely dense.  
  
He tries to think of times when maybe Bucky had been a little more forward, a little more handsy, even. Nothing comes to mind; as far as he can tell Bucky has been the Bucky he's always been and he's always been affectionate with Steve.  
  
So... if Steve can't judge by that, since when could Bucky have possibly been looking for more, then?  
  
He curses under his breath as the carrier lurches sideways into the gutter, the corner sticking in the snow. It's not that it takes much work to heave it back out and reset the suspension drive, it's just the inconvenience and mostly Steve's own fault for allowing himself to get so distracted.  
  
Steve's relieved when he pushes the carrier into the scrappy little front yard of the townhouse and up to the front door. It's only the work of a matter of moments to hoist the boxes into his arms, and fumble in through the door (and then swears and is back out a half second later to prod at the handle with his elbow until he bumps the green collection button).  
  
Bucky's sitting at the table in the kitchen when Steve comes in and deposits the boxes on the bench. He turns, suddenly stupidly nervous, leaning back against the bench top but Bucky doesn't even look up from the documents strewn across the table. At any other time, Steve would find Bucky's commitment to paper and pens endearing, even when it's easier to use a computer or datapad. Except.  
  
There's a long pause, a weighty silence, as Steve stares intently at the top of Bucky's head, willing him to look up.  
  
Bucky flips a page over and as he shifts, Steve catches the hint of a smirk, quickly hidden behind a neutral expression and can't stop an outraged huff. At that Bucky does, finally, glance up. The neutral expression is gone in face of a full blown grin.  
  
"Oh, you are a little shit," Steve says and then he's darting around the table. Bucky laughs against Steve's mouth as Steve kisses him.  
  
"How long?" Steve eventually asks, looking down at Bucky who wears the most smugly satisfied expression Steve has ever seen on him.  
  
Bucky rolls his eyes. "Long enough. Thought you were never gonna catch up."  
  
"You could have given me some hints," Steve protests.  
  
"'I think the heating's busted in my room, d'you mind if I crawl in with you?'" Bucky mimes shivering.  
  
Steve stares at him. "That was a come on?"  
  
"Steve, we haven't shared a bed since the night before the day I went to Basic. Also I'd have thought waking up spooning shoulda been a pretty big sign."  
  
At that Steve does blush, because okay, he definitely noticed waking up warm and cosy, Bucky plastered to his back and his face tucked in against Steve's shoulder, lips pressed to skin. Bucky's arm had been curled around Steve waist too, hand splayed low, low on Steve's belly. "I just thought--" Steve starts lamely then stops. "Okay sure, yeah, maybe you're right, I could have paid more attention."  
  
"Speaking of..." And Bucky touches his lips. Steve grins and kisses him again. His mouth is warm under Steve's, his skin warm under Steve's fingers after the freeze of outside.  
  
"It's nice to know you're still as dense as ever, though," Bucky says as Steve pulls back, dragging a chair out front the table and sitting down. His knee nudges Bucky's under the table.  
  
"What, because I didn't notice? What do you mean by 'still'?"  
  
Bucky reaches out and runs his hand down Steve's arm. Suddenly the simple touch seems to hold a charge it never did before, even through the leather of Steve's bomber jacket. "Just... that the tech that made you like this didn't change who you are. That you're still Steve, the Steve I know." A wry smile. "My Steve."  
  
Steve, well, he starts to scoff, but then he sees the hint of an old fear in Bucky's eyes. Which is ridiculous, Bucky should never have been scared for him--  
  
Except it's not that, is it?  
  
Because Steve remembers writing to Bucky when he was selected for the enhancement program, remembers his own fear that he might come out a different man than who went in. Oh, of course he was going to be different, that was the whole point. The changes, he was told, would affect him down to a cellular level. To make him the kind of superhuman supersoldier the program envisaged, the Sha-thi had used their alien technology to combine his DNA with their own; only the tiniest fragments, they told him, designed to realise the full potential of his cells. As a result, while he still felt like himself--or like the 'himself' he was meant to be--he was no longer entirely human.   
  
But that had never worried him, otherwise he would never have agreed to be the ultimate guinea pig in their program. No, it was the fear that his thoughts, his mind, might be affected by the alien manipulation. That absolutely terrified him.  
  
And now... it looks like he wasn't the only one who was scared. He remembers the quiet confidence in the letters from Bucky sent from the front, the belief that carried him through even the darkest nights when he was scared he was making the greatest of mistakes.  
  
Bucky, who was normally too good at hiding how he really felt, had not revealed a single shred of the fear of losing his best friend until now. Steve can see Bucky's sudden realisation of how much he's given away in his eyes and Steve's heart stutters when Bucky looks away sharply. "Hey," Steve says, reaching out and curling his fingers around the back of Bucky's neck, "hey, it's not a bad thing to be scared. Everyone's scared of something. Even you."  
  
Bucky snorts. "Not that scared," he mutters and Steve is pretty sure he can feel the heat of the flush that crawls up Bucky's neck at his admission.   
  
Steve leans in, nuzzles up against Bucky's cheek. "It's not a crime to be scared, Buck," he murmurs, pressing his mouth to Bucky's jaw. "S'nice to know you care." 


End file.
